I run to death, and death meets me as fast

I have a scheduled post somewhere, but I'm in an awful mood and I really hate everyone and everything right now, so I'm going to write something equally vile and torrid. In the mean time, until we return to your regularly scheduled viewing, I'd rather post John Donne sonnets.

Holy sonnets.

O, O! but why would I post holy sonnets? Well, for one John Donne is my nigga. Yeah I said it. But...read them:

I

THOU hast made me, and shall Thy work decay ?
Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste ;
I run to death, and Death meets me as fast,
And all my pleasures are like yesterday.
I dare not move my dim eyes any way ;
Despair behind, and Death before doth cast
Such terror, and my feeble flesh doth waste
By sin in it, which it towards hell doth weigh.
Only Thou art above, and when towards Thee
By Thy leave I can look, I rise again ;
But our old subtle foe so tempteth me,
That not one hour myself I can sustain.
Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art
And thou like adamant draw mine iron heart.

XIV

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

Tasteh sauce.

And now I will tell you, for these sonnets it is noted were more or less a record of Donne's crisis in faith. And you can see it in just these two from beginning to end. I'm not actually having a crisis in faith (or lack there of) but this semester of college & this round of life, for some reasons, has not been very kind to your Bloggerette. Taking away the religious elements I particularly identified with the sense of desperation and confusion, the lack of reason holding me steady on the ground; desperately wanting something magical to happen and to be fixed goddamnit, immediately! I need succor, even though I don't have a clue where it's going to come from, but I need it to present itself.